She walked through the same summary she’d given her mom on the phone, and her dad, and then Carter at the coffeeshop. “First days are always kinda weird, you know?”
“I know.”
“But it’s a fantastic job. Plenty of breaks, nice office, close to home, and the shop…I think I’m gonna be thanking your mom for the rest of my life.”
Ava chuckled. “Don’t say that if you don’t want to get roped into babysitting.”
“Bring on the babies.”
“You haven’t seen Ash when he’s having a tantrum. Oh my Lord, can that kid scream.”
Leah still found it hilarious that Ava had a little brother younger than her own three kids. It was a reminder that, though so much of Knoxville was just as she’d left it, a lot had changed, too. Babies were born, bars were bought…and former star quarterbacks spiraled into depressive episodes.
“Hey,” she said, during a natural lull in the conversation. She heard small voices in the background, and Mercy’s deep, bass rumble, and knew she would need to say goodnight soon. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Carter.”
“Carter?” Ava sounded surprised. “Oh, about the whole getting-punched-in-the-face thing?”
“No, he told me that story.”
“Yikes.”
“No, I…he’s been coming by the shop a lot in the last few days. I think we’re kinda building a have-dinner-together habit or something.”
“A what now?”
“Tonight,” Leah pressed on, feeling a surprising surge of annoyance, “was the first time I’ve seen him smile – really, genuinely look happy – since I got home.”
“Oh.”
“Please tell me someone besides me has noticed that he is very not okay.”
A pause. And then Ava let out a deep breath. “Yeah,” she said, softly. “He’s…he’s good at hiding it. Covering it, I guess. Usually. I don’t know if he’s been unhappy all along, and just stopped trying to keep us from noticing, or if maybe it’s been a long, slow slide into it.” Another pause, and shame touched her voice. “I’ve been busy with the kids, and work, and helping Mom, and…listen to me making excuses. There is no excuse. I should be checking up on him better.”
“He was better tonight,” Leah said, her annoyance evaporating; replaced by a gentle sort of sadness. “He said he was helping coach the high school quarterback.”
“He is?”
“Yeah. He said he’s really enjoying it. Being back into football like that again. You should have seen the way he was smiling.”
“Kinda dazzling, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t seen that smile in a long time.” She gave a low, considering hum. “I don’t think he ever wanted to be a Dog. I nudged him that direction.”
“It’s not your fault. Nobody sticks out their prospect year if they want to leave, right?”
“Right.” But Ava didn’t sound convinced. “Tell you what: I’ll have a dinner. Aidan and Sam, Tango and Whitney. Carter. Oh, and you should come, too.”
“To your couples party?”
“Not a party, a dinner, and not just couples. You said he was happier with you, so, you can come and make him happy.” She laughed. “God, I just heard how that sounds, and it’s bad. But. Just come. It’s not a couples thing. It’s family, and you’re family.”
Leah smiled to herself. “Okay. What can I bring?”
Eighteen
Doves burst from the rafters overhead, the sudden working of their wings loud as clapping hands in the dank stillness of the old mill. Dust and feathers and old tatters of cobwebs showered down from above.
Ghost side-stepped the falling debris, moving in closer to the triangle spray-painted on the wall. “There was nothing else?” He touched the paint with his fingertips; dry, soaked deep into the wood. It could have been weeks or months old, though the color retained its brightness. “Nothing else out of place?”
“Not that I could find,” Eden said behind him. Ghost liked her. She reminded him of his own girls; the way she was practical, and smart, and didn’t fuck around with important stuff. “But I didn’t go wading out through the tall grass.”
“The kids’ll find it, if it’s there.” He’d sent Reese and Tenny out into the unkempt fields behind the building, told them to search for anything relevant to the crime at hand.
He nodded toward the tag. “What’s your take?”
Her boots – sensible, but rebellious Docs – scuffed over the dirt floor as she came to stand beside him. “It’s a triangle,” she said. “Generic in that sense. An easy shape to try for someone unused to using spray paint.”
“Fox said he thought it was meant to be the yield sign.” That’s the way it read to him; that was what had